


Orbit

by iniquiticity



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Artistic Pornography, Bondage, Immortal Creature Taliesin Jaffe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Sex Beyond The Cosmos, Tentacles, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 05:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iniquiticity/pseuds/iniquiticity
Summary: Strange and wonderful and extraordinary, to have the affections of a being beyond the cosmos.
Relationships: Taliesin Jaffe/Matthew Mercer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this for a kink meme prompt which wanted worship of eldritch being taliesin jaffe. in all honesty it was a taliesin/wednesday club prompt but i wrote it as taliesin/matt because i did.
> 
> for more commentary and nonsense, i can be reached on tumblr at [iniquiticity](http://iniquiticity.tumblr.com), or on twitter at [@iniquiticity](https://twitter.com/iniquiticity)

"I’m going to head over to Tal’s," Matt said, re-organizing his dice and various papers from the game, feeling the weary exhaustion of Thursday night, “I don’t know when I’ll be home.” 

Marisha tilted her head at him, smiling a lewd little smile. She gave him a kiss. "Don't let him work you too hard," she teased, and turned.

Matt watched and listened for a while, waiting until the whole office was quiet, before he walked through the hallway. He stood in front of the wall and took a deep breath, then pressed his hands to the paint and pushed. The drywall went soft under his hands, like wet sand, in that way that reminded him of Harry Potter. Quite suddenly he was on the other side of it, and not in the office where he should have been. Instead he stood in the strange void that had inspired the Luxon, the endlessness of it, sparkling with strange stars.

"Taliesin?" he asked, and felt the rumble in his chest of acknowledgement. He kneeled on what didn't-look-like-but-was the ground, though a strange mist hovered under it, as if he stood on a glass table. The rumble rolled through his chest again, pulsing in his blood. Matt closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, as if he could inhale the lightning-strike feel of it, like ozone but heavy, and deep, and foreign.

"Hi, Matt," said the void in a familiar voice, and then stars and mist and void and blackness coalesced, first in a silhouette and then there were feet and shoes and hands and clothes and a face and the brightness of Taliesin's brushed-back mohawk, "I'm glad to see you."

"You know I come when I'm called," Matt said, to the ground. Taliesin didn't move from where he stood, but stardust merged together around him into a tendril, whiplike, lifting his chin with strange tenderness. Taliesin smiled down at him, and the tendril pushed Matt's face up, until he stood, a dazed smile on his face. It always seemed so impossible, for the joke to be real. For Taliesin to be this endless thing, for a being so far beyond his understanding to like him, to want him. To ask for him. And yet - yet the wall opened and Taliesin could hum strange heat into his body.

"You're so wonderful to have," Taliesin said, and he stepped forward. Even though Matt had to look down at him, it never felt like that. It felt like looking up, like looking up into the sky, like looking into the ocean.

"It's wonderful to be had," Matt replied, and Taliesin smiled at him. Strange, the warmth you could pull from it. To know this -- this thing, this person, this being, this entity -- it had you, you were theirs. Strange and wonderful to know you could press into a wall and fall into its embrace, be so small and so held by something so cosmic. He took a breath of strange air and then he bent his head, and then Taliesin's hands were on his face, creating eye contact. Taliesin's touch felt cold and hot and strange and electric all at once. Human skin had not been designed to interpret what it felt like for this being, guard half-down, to touch it. Matt shuddered. And to look into those eyes - to see the boundless depth of the universe and galaxies and time ---

When Taliesin kissed him it was better than a high, better than licking a battery, better than touching the frozen surface of an ice cube. God, they had not designed words for what it felt like when Taliesin, body half-incorporeal, sliding in and out of the form he wore, kissed him. Taliesin's tongue in his mouth became flesh, became shadow, became a star, became flesh, became shadow, became flesh. Matt longed to touch, to sate his addiction to it, but he was good. He was had.

"Matthew Mercer, my favorite, my chosen, my exquisite thing, mine," Taliesin said, and there was an edge of teeth there, black holes, the harshness of darkness. Taliesin took a step back and Matt missed him instantly, wishing to step forward and resisting. He stared at Taliesin, knowing his pupils must have been wide, lips slick with starstuff and spit. He could hear his own heart race.

"Yours," he said, "Anything."

Taliesin smiled at him and universes were born in the wrinkles of his face. Matt knew, and swore, and promised that he had a god and the god called itself Taliesin Jaffe when it was masquerading, placing a shred of itself within this mortal coil. It had told Matt its name once, when it was not Taliesin. The name had caused Matt's nose to bleed. 

"Come on," Taliesin said, gesturing, and then they were somewhere else, some other fragment of the cosmos, between dimensions and places where there was nothing, not even time. He was still human and not, still Matt and not, and Taliesin was still Taliesin and not.

He could feel where Taliesin touched him everywhere, tendrils of the void and undiscovered metals and dark energy caressing across what stood in for his skin. No clothes, here, now. Fragments of reality made unnecessary, after all. It made him shiver, a pulse of delight sliding through him. He fell to his knees, if he had them. He pressed his face down to the ground-that-wasn't, the palms of his hands down, back long and exposed to the supernovas exploding above.

"You are beautiful," Taliesin said, and his voice was in Matt's blood, in his ears. Taliesin touched him not just with fingers but with lines of light and darkness, caressing skin. They wrapped around his wrists and his ankles and his stomach, lifting him. He was weightless in their grasp and it was wonderful. He was Taliesin's and Taliesin had him in his incomprehensible grasp.

"And yours," Matt said, looking out and seeing Taliesin there, a cut-out of understandable being against a background of impossibility. Taliesin took his face in his hands and kissed him with his real mouth, for what counted as real, and Matt could barely kiss back from the ways the extensions of Taliesin's form restrained him.

"And mine," Taliesin agreed, limitless fingers touching and teasing him. Matt moaned, low with pleasure. It was the only way to process, to understand the touch, the interaction. Where the limitless power touched him it was pure heat under his skin.

"Take me?" he asked, not struggling against the bonds.

"Already have."

Matt smiled, knowing the truth of it. Taliesin slid hands around his neck and kissed him again and again and again and Matt did not have to breathe in this place, did not have to pull away, could let Taliesin kiss him as tendrils of power and energy and blackness surrounded him, pressed all around him, against him, inside him. Pulsed there, growing in size, and in and out and in and out. When Taliesin pulled his mouth away and Matt cried out another strand slid through his lips and pulsed with electricity and cold and heat in his throat. There was nothing like it, to be surrounded, to be filled, to be held, to have every shred of feeling focused on this. To have Taliesin inside him, pressing so deep and seeming so thick and there was heat and pressure and he could not even push back, just had to take it. To have Taliesin coiling in his throat and had he needed to breathe he would have choked but it was simply not necessary. Such obstacles, for Taliesin to own him. They could be so easily removed.

It writhed and pressed and thrust and took from him, held him in a coil of pure night, in the center of a black hole, in the midst of a dying star. He was nothing but Taliesin's sacrifice, on Taliesin's altar, presented on Taliesin's dais. He had been born for Taliesin to touch every bit of him, inside and out.

He felt the pressure and the release it left, like the beginnings of new planets. He felt his own release, crying out had he had air, had there been sound. He felt Taliesin soften around him, caressing, tender. Felt the chill of dead space and a shudder, and exhaustion. The tangle, like soft vines now, held him. It was a cloud under him now, energy and light and blackness.

He gasped and realized he could breathe, felt his heart and knew it raced. He reached for the tendrils and felt them around him, and then he reached and felt arms, Taliesin sitting in the beginning of the universe with Matt's head in his lap. Taliesin stroked sweaty hair from his face, smiled at him, caressed his shoulder with his other hand. Matt curled into him and closed his eyes and then when he opened them they were in Taliesin's bed. Where the tendrils had been were just many blankets, and where space and stars had been was now art, and where the universe had been was the roof.

Where Taliesin had been, Taliesin was still there, holding him with warm affection. Not the warmth of the sun, just regular old love.

"Hi," Matt said, and kissed Taliesin's stomach in front of him.

"You are so, so wonderful," Taliesin said, and snuggled them both into the blankets. Matt dreamed of an orrery.


End file.
